Passages
by MidnightMoonCat
Summary: After 3 years of tension, Marian Hawke and Fenris find what they are searching for in an unlikely location. Warning - NSFW.
1. Chapter 1: Lessons

**A/N: Once again, dedicated to Hatseput. Because her smut is so awesome, I will need lots of practice to be anywhere near as good as she is. **

**Bioware owns Dragon Age, I just play with it.**

Fenris was still trying to decide if he should go through with their plans for tonight. Hawke had made a habit of coming over once a week for their lessons. When she had first offered to teach him how to read, he had almost rejected the idea, thinking she was motivated by nothing more than pity for a poor slave. When he'd balked, she had instead proposed they exchange knowledge. Mages use Arcanum to cast magic, but she only knew the few words needed for her spells. Fenris, on the other hand, spoke it better than some scholars. He could teach her more Arcanum, and in exchange, she would teach him to read. And so their weekly lessons had begun.

The lessons had certainly been enjoyable for several weeks. It was odd for Fenris to have Hawke's undivided attention. During the frequent jobs they undertook around Kirkwall, they were always surrounded by other members of their little group, and the constant danger kept him on edge and unable to relax. A quiet evening together in his home was an entirely new experience.

Unfortunately, the last session had not gone well. Fenris had trouble concentrating and became increasingly more frustrated. He eventually lost his temper entirely and told Hawke to leave. The brief look of hurt on her face made him feel guilty, which just upset him more, and he had stayed away from her for a short time. He didn't know why he had been in such a foul mood that night, but when he did rejoin the group a few days later, he took her aside and apologized. She hadn't said anything in response, simply gave him one of her frequent appraising looks and nodded. When their next job began, she treated him as though nothing had changed.

Perhaps she felt it was no longer worth it. Perhaps she wouldn't show up at all. He couldn't decide if that made him feel better or worse. Before his mind could circle round the subject again, Fenris heard a soft know at the door. _She was here_. For a moment, the knocking went silent, drowned out by the loud rush of his blood and the sudden pounding in his chest.

He raced to the front door, thankful that he had already disabled the trap on the stairs. He paused for a moment in the small entry room and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to settle his nerves. It took him a few moments of deep breathing before he calmed enough that he could reach for the door handle with a steady hand.

She stood on the doorstep, wrapped in a long, dark cloak, waiting patiently. The light from the fire upstairs was not enough to reach the front door, but the moon outside was nearly full and it cast her figure in shades of silver and grey. Unlike many of their companions, Hawke never simply walked into his home. She always waited for him to invite her in. He had suspected at first that she simply had no wish to enter the dilapidated mansion, but had realized later that it was actually a mark of her respect for him. Opening the door wider, he motioned for her to enter.

"Not sure if I would show up tonight?" she asked softly as he closed the door behind her. _How could she know what I was thinking? Was she using magic against me?_

She must have noticed the look of suspicion on his face, because she sighed and pointed to his hands.

"You normally take the gauntlets off before I arrive."

Fenris ducked his head, using the ivory strands of his hair to shield his eyes from her view. A hint of red crept along his high, chiseled cheekbones and slid partway up his ears. The first time they had tried a reading lesson, he was still wearing his gloves. The sharp metal points had sliced through the delicate pages, prompting him to immediately apologize and remove the offending armor.

The lingering embarrassment from that memory only enhanced his current mortification. She knew he still saw her, first and foremost, as a mage. _And mages can never be trusted_.

He heard her light steps heading towards the stairs in the Grand Hall and moved to follow. She had dropped the cloak from her shoulders and draped it over one arm. His breath rushed from his mouth as he got his first good look at what Hawke was wearing underneath. In the years that he had known her, Hawke had never worn traditional mage robes. Instead, she was often garbed in a pair of loose fitting pants and a long, heavy shirt. He guessed that her style of dress was likely a habit learned from her father to avoid templar attention, but this... this was something entirely different.

"What are you wearing?" The gravelly tone of his voice came out deeper than usual, an indication of how much the sight of her affected him.

She had just placed one foot on the bottom stair when she turned back to look at him. The position of her raised leg pulled the already tight material even tighter. There were laces running along the sides of her pants from mid-thigh to waist, allowing the garment to closely conform to her shape. Instead of her normal long-sleeved shirt, she wore only a sleeveless embroidered vest which matched the pants. The V-shaped neckline dipped low enough to show the swell of her breasts. The laces on the vest ran along the front; the small knot holding everything in place was poised just below her cleavage. The vest appeared to have been tailored to her exact measurements and it stopped a little above the top edge of the pants, leaving a narrow strip of bare skin visible. The curve of her backside, which had previously been covered, was now prominently displayed. In the darkness of the mansion, he couldn't tell exactly what the fabric was or the color, but it clung to her like a second skin. Her glance drifted down to her new attire and she smiled.

"Do you like it? Varric told me I should at least try to dress like a noble occasionally, so he and Isabela took me shopping. They recommended something that would allow a full range of movement for my spells. Isabela said this fabric is velvet and it's normally used in Orlais for noble clothes. I've never had anything like it." As she spoke, she placed one hand near her knee and slowly ran her fingers over the cloth, an expression of pure delight on her face.

Fenris stopped breathing for a moment as his mind considered what it would feel like to run his own hands along that fabric and cup those generous curves. He caught her looking at him expectantly and realized he hadn't answered her question.

"It is... very tight."

Hawke's laughter washed over him, heating his blood another notch.

"That's one way to put it. Isabela said the pants _grab my ass like a drunken sailor_. I don't want first-hand experience, so I won't be wearing this outfit to the Hanged Man."

Hawke's comment brought one corner of Fenris's mouth up. It was the closest he ever came to a real smile, but it had been happening with more frequency in the three years since she entered his life. He gestured to the top of the stairs and watched her head up to the main room. Once she was out of view, Fenris raced into the adjoining kitchen area, and began to strip his armor off. He kept only his tight leather pants and tunic on, leaving the shirt unfastened. The rest was thrown haphazardly in a pile on the table. He grabbed an unopened bottle of wine before heading upstairs to join her. He had the feeling he was going to need it to survive the next few hours without doing something one or both of them would regret.

After the first hour, Fenris was beginning to wonder if the wine had been a bad idea. He hadn't bothered with glasses, instead simply passing the bottle to Hawke for her to drink. He had never before noticed the fluttering of her throat when she swallowed, or the way the wine darkened the pink of her lips and made them glisten in the firelight. She had had to repeat several of her practice words already, as he found it almost impossible to concentrate on what she was saying. His unruly mind kept supplying him with erotic possibilities for those luscious lips that had nothing to do with learning Arcanum. Perhaps it might be better to move on to the reading lessons before he gave in to his impulse to lean over and find out if her lips tasted as good as they looked.

He stood up suddenly and began gathering the candles they would need. He hoped that Hawke didn't see him adjust the front of his pants, which had become uncomfortably tight. Once the candles were lit, she placed their current book on the table and they sat side-by-side on the bench to begin his lesson. As was their agreement, she did not interrupt, allowing him to work out the pronunciation on his own, only assisting him if he asked for her help. Sadly, even with her helping more than usual, they weren't making much progress. The letters on the page kept blurring before his eyes and he had re-read one line three times without realizing it.

He hadn't even reached the bottom of the first page, and already he was thinking of quitting for the night. His senses were being overwhelmed by the smallest things. She had leaned forward a moment ago to look at the page and he felt her breast pressed against the tense muscle of his bare arm. He now knew that the material of her new clothes was a deep burgundy color, and it felt warm, soft and slightly fuzzy. His mind had conjured up an image of himself sprawled naked across the table, while she rubbed herself against him like big cat._ I have to get myself under control. Hawke is not mine. I must remember that_. He leaned closer towards the page, hunching over the table to try and hide the evidence of his arousal. He was fighting his own instinct to wrap his arms around her and drag her onto his lap.

As he tried once more to focus on the letters, his hair again slipped down into his eyes. Before he could push it back into place, he felt Hawke's hand lift the wayward strands and gently tuck them behind his ear. He froze in place, afraid to move or even breath, lest she stop. Her delicate fingers slid along the upper edge of his ear towards the oh-so sensitive tip, then lingered there for moment before her hand dropped. The sensation was almost as erotic as if she had run her fingers over a different, more swollen part of his anatomy. He could not stop the tremble that ran through his body. He lifted his heated gaze to her face, and was amazed to see the smoldering passion in her eyes that mirrored his own. Both of them began to lean forward, their lips drawn irresistibly together.

Before they could actually touch, a loud noise from one of the downstairs rooms made them both freeze in place. They were so close their breaths mingled. He saw her pupils dilate, but it was a different kind of tension now reflected in her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2: Hidden Spaces

Hawke pulled away from Fenris and looked around the room, an expression of worry on her face. It only then occurred to him that she had not brought her staff with her. She wasn't defenseless. He knew she could cast spells without the staff, and he had his sword to protect them. Or did he? Fenris belatedly remembered that he had left his sword in the kitchen with his armor. He silently cursed his own stupidly and then decided that, perhaps, it would be wiser to know who they were dealing with before taking action.

He put one finger up to her lips, absently noting how soft they felt, then stood, pulling her up to follow him towards a darkened corner of the room. He was about to show her something no one else had ever seen. He reached out to press a secret latch and a hidden panel sprang open. Her eyes widened in understanding, then he gently pushed her ahead of him into the narrow passageway, stepping in behind her and closing the panel after them. He knew where they needed to go, but to lead the way, he first needed to move past her. For a brief moment, their bodies were pressed tightly together in the small space. He heard her sharp in-take of breath and realized that the untimely interruption had slowed the fire building between them, but hadn't doused it entirely.

It took only a few minutes to reach the area he was looking for. He turned sideways in the passage, leaning his backside against one wall, while a hand on the wall in front of him braced his weight. With his other hand, he carefully slit a thin partition of wood out of the way revealing a set of narrow eye slits. The placement of the viewing holes was definitely designed for someone shorter than Fenris. He had to lean down so he could see out of them. He found himself looking down on the Grand Hall with a clear view of the main staircase. The only light was the flickering reflections from the upstairs fireplace, but his eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. Even so, he could detect no movement in the empty room.

He felt Hawke's hand on his right arm, and turned to see her gesture to her eyes and then point at the eye slits. She clearly wanted a chance to see for herself. A devious thought crept into Fenris's mind. He would never have done something like this if he was still unsure of her interest, but tonight had make it clear that the desire between them was not wholly his own. He leaned forward again, but moved his head away from her, so that his right eye was looking out the left eye slit. The other eye slit was hers to use, but she would have squeeze into the tiny space between him and the wall to reach it. He placed his right hand high up on the front wall, giving her just enough room to slip under it. Keeping his eye pressed against the eye slit, he pretended to watch the stairs, but was in fact using the wall to hide his expression. He held his breath waiting for her to decide. Hawke's mind was so complicated, he could never tell exactly what she was thinking, but he guessed she was considering her actions carefully. When she finally began to slide in front of him, his breathing resumed and a knot of tension in his chest, which he had not even realized was there, began to ease. It was quickly replaced, however, by a tension lower in his body.

The passageway was only slightly larger than the width of his shoulders, so she had to press her entire backside against the front of his body to fit. With his tunic hanging open, he could feel the heat radiating off her body and gentle rasp of the velvet against his smooth skin. The cloth was wrapped so tightly around her flesh, it provided little in the way of a barrier. Fenris bit down on his lip to stifle a groan when she finally settled into place. There was no way, with them being this close, that she could fail to notice his arousal. His rock-hard length was cradled between the taut globes of her ass and it took all his self-control to keep from grinding his hips against her.

After looking out onto the grand hall for a few minutes, she leaned her head back, resting it against his shoulder, and turned so that her mouth was near his ear.

"Slavers?"

The shiver that went down his spine had nothing to do with the word and everything to do with the way her hot breath was tickling his ear. If he turned his head, with her so close, they would be face-to-face. Instead, he slowly shook his head, expecting her to move away. She stayed where she was for a moment, the softness of her lips rubbing against his ear as his head moved. For just a moment, he thought he had felt the brush of her tongue and then she moved her head forward again to look out.

When she had first moved in front of him, she had mimicked his pose, her hands braced slightly below his on the front wall, and her back pressed against his. When she leaned forward this time, she bent slightly at the waist and the motion pressed her more firmly against his erection. They both drew in a sharp breath at the exquisite sensation and then a faint chuckle escaped her lips.

It seems she had accepted his silent challenge, and Fenris was more than willing to raise the stakes another notch. He turned his head slightly, nuzzling the top of her head and then resting against her silken hair. He didn't speak but simply stayed there, taking deep breaths and then letting them out very slowly against her ear. When he felt her muscles tighten with tension, he ran the tip of his tongue along the rounded shell of her ear. This time, it was her turn to shiver, which caused her warm curves to slide along his engorged length.

Taking his right hand off of the wall, Fenris did something he had been fantasizing about ever since she had taken off the cloak. He allowed his fingers to slide across the narrow strip of honeyed skin at her waist, left bare by her new clothes. Her outfit was laced too tightly for him to slide his hand under the garments, so instead he simply allowed his fingers the freedom to glide back and forth over the surface of her skin. The incredible sensation of touching her satin flesh sent tingles along his fingers, and the lyrium markings began to flicker with tentative flashes that danced along the lines of his hands. He had never touched her when the markings were active and he knew the instant the lyrium began to awaken her magic. The muscles of her stomach fluttered under his hand and a small, breathy moan escaped her lips.

Hawke went very still for a moment and Fenris wondered briefly if he had taken the game too far. She seemed to take a moment to weigh her options and when her decision become clear, his heart soared and so did his temperature.

She spread her legs farther apart and, leaning forward with her weight braced on her hands, she began to slowly grind herself back against him. The feeling was divine, building even more pressure in his groin. Fenris could not stop the markings on his skin from flaring, a faint blue pulse that raced up his arms and across his chest each time she moved against him. Afraid that the light might give them away, he let go of her waist to slide the partition closed, blocking the eye slits, before dropping his wandering hand to back to the lush bounty of her body. His hand stroked down one velvet-encased thigh before sweeping upward to grip her hip and press himself harder against her. Even if the intruder set fire to the mansion, it could not compare to the flames being stoked by the amazing woman in his arms.

Her slow, teasing movements continued for several minutes, both of them now panting in the narrow corridor until Hawke stopped moving again, a low sound of frustration escaping her lips. Given their current position, she simply did not have enough room to move very far. The range of movement was teasing them, but they both wanted more.

Placing his feet together against the front wall, Fenris bent his knees slightly. The position was somewhat awkward and he hoped this idea would work, as he angled his lower back away from wall and let his shoulders slide farther down. His left arm, braced across the passageway, was now the only thing really keeping him in place. The position brought his groin down lower than before, and she was forced to spread her legs wider apart and almost straddle him. This was what she apparently needed and she resuming the grinding motion of her hips, increasing both the pressure and tempo. The new angle had his length pressed into the heat between her legs, creating a sensual torture that could not continue. He moaned from the pleasure, but knew he had to stop this before he lost all control. He wrapped his free hand around her waist and jerked her back tightly against him, his strength curtailing her restless movements and forcing her to stay still. They had to either stop this beautiful insanity or find a way to finish what they had started.

Fenris could not remember the last time he had experienced sexual release with someone else and he was fast approaching the limit of his control. The lines on his skin were glowing brighter now and the stinging pain they always brought him blurred with the pleasure singing in his veins. In the pale blue glow, he could see Hawke's head hanging down, her back shuddering with the force of her gasping breath. It would only take a little bit more to push her over the edge. To strip off their clothes and take her as he longed to do. To finally make her his in truth, not just in his fantasies. But he couldn't force that decision on her. He knew all too well what it was like to be given no choice.

Sending up a silent prayer that his legs wouldn't collapse, he pulled away from her, pressing the length of his back against the wall while he straightened his legs until he was standing upright again. Before she could move away, he turned Hawke to face him and drew her into the circle of his arms. His eyes locked on hers as he took one of her hands in his own, lifting it and placing a tender kiss on the center of her palm. His other hand came to rest at the back of her waist, urging her forward until she was again pressed against his chest.

Keeping his touch as light as a feather, the hand at her waist began to move in small circular motions. His fingertips trailed up her spine, eliciting more shivers until he finally reached her head. As his fingers splayed out across the back of her skull, sinking into the silken strands of her ebony hair, her eyelids fluttered and then closed. The pads of his fingers slowly massaged her scalp and all the while, he never took his eyes from her face. His gentle touch was soothing, and her breathing started to slow.

Leaning forward, his lips hovered just over hers.

"Do you want to finish this?" His voice had dropped to an octave so deep, it was barely more than a growl.

He saw her eyes snap open and she took in the hard lines of tension in his face and body, proof that he was poised at the edge of his self-control. And yet, somehow, he was still giving her the choice. Trusting her with more than just his body. The look in her eyes said that she knew how much it cost him to relinquish the power to her, and more importantly, she trusted that if she said no, he would stop, regardless of what he wanted.

Once again, she chose to show her answer with actions rather than words. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she pulled back enough to tug at the laces on her vest. In a moment, she had pulled the strings out completely and tossed them to the floor. The vest now gaped open, revealing the creamy mounds of her breasts to his hungry gaze.

In a flash, the hand that Fenris still had resting against the back of her head tightened into a fist, holding her in place while he closed the short distance between them, drawing one gasp of combined pain and pleasure from her lips before he finally claimed them for himself.


	3. Chapter 3: Home

Fenris wasn't sure which of them opened their mouth first, but it didn't really matter. If they had been given the chance earlier to finish their kiss, it might have been gentle, a slow savoring of each other. But now, there was no room for gentleness, and his mouth devoured hers in a bruising onslaught of lips and tongue and teeth. The taste of her was sweeter than any wine ever bottled, and he quickly became drunk on her unique flavor.

Hawke gave as good as she got, wrapping one arm around his neck for balance and matching his earlier action, by burying her other hand in his hair. She used her grip like reins on a wild stallion, turning his head slightly to get a better angle or holding it in place to deepen their kiss. When they finally let go of each other and stepped apart, his heart was pounding and his chest was heaving with the force of his breaths.

Hawke stepped forward first, slipping her hands under his tunic and then, in one motion, sliding it off his broad shoulders and tossing it to the ground, in the same direction where her laces had gone.

Fenris grabbed the open edges of her vest and tugged her closer while turning them in the narrow hallway. His arms might scrape the walls to either side of him in this position, but it gave him the room he needed. He began to slide the top of the vest down her shoulders. Instead of taking it all the way off, he got it halfway down her arms, just below her breasts and then pulled it tightly closed again, using the fabric to bind her arms down at her sides. The position also lifted her breasts, and Fenris indulged another long-time fantasy as he lowered his head and flicked his tongue across one of her dusky pink nipples. Her hastily drawn breath lifted her breasts higher and he opened his mouth wide to take in as much of the honey-colored flesh as he could, sucking hard even as he pulled away until only the hardened nipple remained clasped in his lips. In the next moment, he reversed the direction pulling her flesh back into the hot cavern of his mouth. Her head was thrown back and small, keening sounds were coming from her as she writhed under his touch. When he repeated the motion with her other breast, he felt her knees give way and, for just a second, his hold on her vest was the only thing keeping her upright.

There wasn't enough room in the narrow passage for him to sweep her up into his arms, so he released the vest and let it fall to the ground, wrapping one arm around the small of her back. His other hand cupped the curve of her ass and he lifted her off the ground, bringing her highly-sensitized breasts back towards his eagerly awaiting mouth. She took the hint, winding her long legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He felt her lower body writhing around trying to increase her stimulation, but he was holding her up too high to grind against the part of him she sought. Which, all things considered, was probably a good thing. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last, and he wanted to be buried deep inside her when that moment arrived.

He let her slide down just a little, anchoring her arms tighter around his neck, so he could capture her mouth in another passionate kiss. Without breaking the kiss, Fenris slowly staggered down the passageway, bumping his shoulders against the walls, but being as careful as possible not to let her get hurt. When he finally reached the pile of blankets he used as a sleeping pallet, he was glad for once that he had been in such a hurry this morning and hadn't had time to roll them up as usual. They were still spread out on the passageway floor and he gratefully dropped to his knees knowing they would cushion his fall.

Fenris knelt on the blankets, lost in the joy of kissing Hawke, her arms and legs still holding him close. When they stopped for breath, he unwound her arms from his neck and gently laid her back on the blankets. Her legs had parted as he moved and now fell open to either side of his knees. He sat back and placed one hand on each ankle, slipping off her shoes and tossing them behind him. When he leaned forward again, he tugged at the laces that held her pants in place, loosening them enough to slide the cloth down, off her legs. He glanced back up and realized that she had worn no smalls under this outfit. His eyes met hers and faint blush touched her cheeks.

"I couldn't get the pants to fit properly if I wore anything under them." Her confession was whispered in the dark corridor.

The thought of her sitting next to him earlier with nothing on but the velvet heated his blood and made the lines down his body flare up again. He pushed her legs farther apart and then sat back on his knees to study the effect. Hawke was sprawled naked before him, like a royal banquet. Her golden skin shimmered in the blue glow from his markings, and even though he had yet to touch or taste between her legs, he could already see the moisture gathered there.

There were so many things he wanted to try, fantasies he wanted to share with her, but they would have to wait for another time. For now, the need to be inside her could no longer be denied.

He pushed himself up, rising to his feet, his hands dropping to the opening of his leather pants. He paused, drawing out the moment and looked at her from under hooded lids. She was staring at his hands, as though willing him to stop teasing her and let her see everything. He considered going slower, but didn't know if either of them would survive the wait. Hawke made a small sound of impatience and he finally started to undo the clasps. He had been so hard on and off throughout the night, that when the front of his pants finally opened, freeing his swollen flesh, it was both a relief and different kind of torment. He pushed the pants down over his narrow hips, letting them drop to the floor before stepping out of them. The lines of lyrium ran along his entire body, even spiraling around his shaft like a clinging vine.

He stood still, wondering if she liked what she saw. Wondering if there was someone else she would rather see standing naked before her. Before his mind could travel too far down than dark path, Hawke pushed herself up on her elbows and gave him a searing look that started at his feet, lingered on the pearly drops gathered at the tip of his swollen cock, and then traveled up to meet his eyes. While still holding his gaze, she slowly licked her lips and smiled at him. His momentary panic disappeared and he dropped down to his hands and knees and began crawling up the length of her body, like some sinuous predator. When he stopped, he was stretched above her, his face directly over hers, his body held up on his arms. He slowly lowered his body, legs sliding between hers, his erection cradled by the heat between her thighs, his muscled chest still raised slightly over her as he rested his weight on his forearms.

Fenris felt her thighs open and her legs clasp his waist. The rosy tip of his cock was pressed against her opening as though it already knew the way. He could feel the moisture that had pooled between her legs, and knew that he would find her sheath hot and welcoming. His hips stilled, poised on the brink of completion as he sought her gaze one last time.

For what seemed an eternity he just stared into her eyes, that incredible blue that reminded him of a summer sky. He felt as though he should say something, find some way to explain the feelings that filled his heart whenever he looked at her. He wanted, no, needed her to know the depths of his emotions, but all he could do was gaze into her eyes, his heart pounding and his breath catching, hoping that she would somehow understand.

Hawke lifted one hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. One gentle pulse of her magic was all it took. A brilliant blue glow started under her hand and spread like wildfire across the lines of his body, forcing a guttural cry from his lips, bowing his back and driving his cock as deep as it would go in one glorious stroke. Hawke screamed her pleasure as an orgasm rolled over her; she raked her nails down his chest, painting his flesh with blood and magic, urging him on. There was no turning back now, he couldn't stop if his life depended on it. His hips pistoned up and down, his cock slamming into her again and again, the glow of his markings increasing with each thrust until he flared brighter than the noon day sun, her magic making the lyrium pulse and the lyrium enhancing her magic. Fenris began to lose his rhythm, the pleasure overloading his system, his balls tightening almost painfully.

Another orgasm swept through her and Fenris could actually feel her magic pouring through him, even as her inner muscles clamped down around him, gripping him in wet heat. It was too much and he slammed home one last time, driving to the root, the pressure within him exploding as his seed poured out in hot jets deep inside her. The blinding light ended suddenly with his release, plunging the passageway into absolute darkness. He slumped forward, sweaty bodies pressed together, neither one able to move, their hearts pounding in time like two drums beating the same rhythm.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but when the waves of pleasure finally began to recede and awareness gradually returned, he opened his eyes and realized that he was still laying on top of Hawke. His head rested on her shoulder, his lips nuzzling the spot where her neck and shoulder met. She had one hand loosely resting on the swell of his ass. He vaguely recalled her digging her nails in at some point. Her other hand was absently stroking up and down his back, her fingers tracing the pattern of his spine. His thought at first that his eyes had begun to adjust once again to the darkness, but then he realized the light was coming from a tiny wisp that Hawke had summoned while he rested.

Not wanting to crush her under his weight, he pushed up on his forearms to gaze down at her. The movement pressed their lower bodies together and he realized that he was still inside her, having not moved since he'd collapsed in pleasure. The feeling of waking up in her embrace was so perfect, it almost brought tears to his eyes. _For the rest of my life, no matter where I go, this woman is home. This is where I belong._

Hawke had stilled at his movement, her arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He was getting hard again and he felt the fluttering pulse of her inner muscles as her body began to respond.

When they made love the second time, it began sweet and tender, their lips moving, tasting, teasing. Her hands stroked up and down his back as he languidly raised and lowered his hips. Now that the initial pressure was gone, he could take his time learning what she liked, what angle made her breath catch and her heart race. Before the frenzy could overtake them again, she placed both her hands on his shoulders and spoke his name.

At first, his only response was to slide deeper on the next stroke, bringing a small gasp to her lips. Her response made him chuckle, which brought a new type of sensation with the next roll of his hips.

However, when she said his name the second time and pushed gently with her hands against his chest, he stilled instantly, hundreds of thoughts racing through his head. _Had he hurt her? Had he bored her? Had he..._

She placed one finger over his lips, as though she could still his mind and his voice together. Miraculously, it seemed to work. When she took her hand away, she gave him a brilliant smile, full of joy and other emotions, and gestured with her hands for him to move back. Before doubt could take him again, she whispered something he had never expected to hear.

"I want to be on top this time."

Fenris finally realized the best way to express what he was feeling, the best way to show her how much he cared. As she gazed up at his face, his lips slowly curled upwards forming a wide, perfect smile and his green eyes shone with joy as he looked at the woman he loved.


	4. Chapter 4: Epilogue

The following evening, Varric was seated in his favorite chair at the Hanged Man, a cold ale on the table next to him, as he regaled the crowd with another riveting tale of Hawke's adventures. This one was mostly true. The front door opened and he spotted Rivaini swaggering up to the bar and ordering a drink.

"Put it on Varric's tab." She told Corff in a voice loud enough to carry over the crowd.

Varric raised his eyebrows and Isabela raised her mug, then downed the contents in one drink. Varric wrapped up the story faster than he had originally planned and waved her over to join him as the crowd dispersed. He noticed that she already had another full mug.

"Also on my tab?" He asked, cringing inwardly.

Dropping into the chair beside him and leaning back, Isabela propped her boots up on the table and gave half the bar a clear view of her smalls.

"Yep," she said with a smug air, "and everything else I eat or drink for the next month."

Not sure what she meant by that, Varric finally recalled a bet they had made in the early hours one morning, after many drinks.

"You did it? No shit? You actually managed to get those two together?"

Varric stared at the buxom pirate who was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. He solemnly raised his mug in a heartfelt salute.

In a quieter voice, he asked, "What happened? You have to share. This is too good."

"Well, to be honest, I didn't actually see them. That house has way too many rooms and they must have snuck off at some point."

"Then how do you know you've won the bet?"

Isabela's smile became even more wicked, if such a thing was possible.

"I think the screams of 'Oh, Maker! Yes, Fenris! Again! More!' were a good indicator."

Varric wasn't sure how much of her story was true and how much was pure bullshit. He was about to call her on it, when the pair in question walked into the bar. Varric's eyes popped open so wide they almost fell out of his head. Well, well, miracles do happen.

The broody elf was actually smiling.


End file.
